Olympic Headache

So Team Great Britain starts its build up to the Olympic Games in earnest. Shaking off the New Year fug, athletes throughout the realm put aside childish things and prepare to be better than they have ever been before. The national breast swells with pride as we all look forward to the spectacle; for a short while the focus of the world will be on Britain in a nice way for a change.

Which makes it all the more remarkable that this piece of shit was chosen as the logo:

What on earth was going on here? I always assumed it was a result of a Blue Peter competition and in a sop to the holy grail of inclusion they'd chosen the winner from a selection of special needs entries, drawn by challenged ADHD sufferers with blunt crayons, but apparently it was grown-up 'branding agency' (you can fool some of the people all of the time) Wolff Olins.

A child could be forgiven, perhaps, for not realising the striking resemblance to Lisa Simpson fellating London, but you're seriously trying to tell me that nobody else saw this? Nobody at the Wolff Olins centre for scribbling puerile cock cartoons? Nobody on the Olympics committee? Not even Seb Coe himself? Before £400,000 was handed over did somebody not think about actually asking whether *that* represented value for money?

We're screwed, aren't we? Forget the running, jumping, cycling, sailing and shooting medals, our athletes have already lost. It's like we lined them up and performed a triumphal pre-game haka at them in the form of infant school poster 'art' blowing a raspberry at their chances.  Better stuff than this adorns fridge doors in chimpanzee enclosures.

Could we pretend it was on purpose? Could we actually get away with it? As a pre-emptive strike we need to take the piss out of ourselves right from the start - the 2012 Olympironics. At the opening ceremony Team GB should drag up and enter the arena wearing tottering heels, two-inch lashes and riding atop Priscilla herself*. The GB Pride ensemble could troop into the arena to the sound of Rule Britannia played on kazoos, waving to the crowds and shouting 'Hiyaaa' to the other teams.

Then, in a stirring finale, the team encircles a podium in the centre of the stadium, on which the responsible parties are executed at the final cymbal crash and a new, animated Olympic logo is unveiled. Ta-daa!

If they did this we might restore a bit of national pride and it would make for a much more orderly games. Everybody from foreign might think twice about competing overly hard if they think the prize for coming first is to be either bum-raped or shot. You didn't think about that now, did you, Wolffy?

(*Yeah, I know the Aussies already did this... but they are butch enough for people to know they were joking.)